


United Front

by SelanPike



Category: MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelanPike/pseuds/SelanPike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things were different before Kingpin. You and Pickle Inspector used to be a united front. Granted, you were united in your loathing for Sleuth, and besides that you really didn’t hang out or talk much or even like each other, but at least you didn’t have to worry about him and Sleuth keeping secrets from you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	United Front

            Things were different before Kingpin. You and Pickle Inspector used to be a united front. Granted, you were united in your loathing for Sleuth, and besides that you really didn’t hang out or talk much or even like each other, but at least you didn’t have to worry about him and Sleuth keeping secrets from you.

            Big secrets. Secrets like the fact that they were both fucking members of the Midnight Crew.

            You’re not going to say you want to go back to how things were. Annoying though he may be, you kind of like being Sleuth’s friend now. You hate being left in the dark, though, and you keep thinking how if this were the old days, Pickles would’ve told you right away. Maybe not about his own affair, but definitely about Sleuth’s. Well, he probably wouldn’t have told you outright. He probably would’ve just left a clue lying in plain sight, since he thought talking about that stuff was rude. But still, you’d know, he’d have made sure you knew, and that’s the point. You think. Honestly you don’t know what the point is, you just know that you feel pretty fucking left out, and also angry, and you’re going to do something about it, dammit.

            The first thing you did was confront Sleuth, because you know how to deal with Sleuth. Dealing with Sleuth involves a lot of yelling and name-calling, followed by you trying to bait him into throwing a punch. Sometimes he falls for it, and then you beat the shit out of him and that usually wins you the argument. Other times, like today, he just grins and flashes that stupid fucking Pulchritude stat at you. You end up apologizing and leaving his office. Once you’re back in your own office you realize what happened and throw your hat down in disgust.

            How does he even _do_ that?

            You pick your hat back up and stomp out into the hall again. Pickle Inspector’s out there now, eyeing Sleuth’s door timidly. There is no way he didn’t hear your argument with him. People on the _green moon_ could’ve heard that argument. He goes pale at the sight of you and tries to duck back into his own office, but you grab him by his bony arm and yank him into your office. You pull your chair to the middle of the room and shove him into it. You take a step back, think for a moment, and start pacing.

            You know how to deal with Sleuth. It doesn’t always end favorably for you, but you know what to do.

            You do not know how to deal with Pickles.

            You can barely even wrap your mind around this bombshell. With Sleuth it’s not that surprising. Not that you actually expected to find out that he was fucking Spades Slick—that scenario is far beyond your paltry imagination—but you know Sleuth’s a dumbass and being a mob boss’s bitch is a pretty dumb thing to do. It fits. But Pickles isn’t dumb. He acts dumb sometimes, sure. You’re pretty sure he’s that special kind of genius where he’s so smart that he comes around the other side and back into idiot territory, but he is definitely too smart for this bullshit. Too smart to get involved with the enemy, and way too smart to let his guard down around Diamonds fucking Droog.

            You keep trying to get angry about it, but to be honest you’re just disappointed.

            You go over it in your head, trying to think about a good way to start this conversation, but you are neither an imaginative nor a delicate man. In the end you just say what you’ve been thinking:

            “I can’t believe you’re fucking Diamonds Droog.”

            Pickles snaps to attention and looks at you, blushing deeply. “Dick!” He says, his voice reproachful. “ _Rude._ ”

            You roll your eyes, leaning against your desk. It wobbles under your weight. “Fine. I can’t believe you’re _making love_ to Diamonds Droog.”

            Pickle Inspector’s frown deepens. Maybe you weren’t supposed to mention fucking at all? Sorry, love-making. Dammit, his manners give you a headache. You soldier on. “I’m just tryin’ to get this straight. We’re thinkin’ of the same Droog here, right? Guy who kills people for a living? Tortures ‘em and carries ‘em half-dead around in his deck ‘a cards? Guy who lies and cheats and don’t even bat an eye?” You slam a hand into your desk, making Pickles flinch. One of the desk’s side panels falls down. “THAT Droog?”

            Pickles looks down again, swallowing a lump in his throat before answering. “Ye-yes. Yes.” His voice is barely a whisper. You wish he’d learn to speak up. “Th-that same Droog.”

            “The hell’re you thinking?!” You roar.

            He slouches down, wringing his hands and shaking. “I—I—I didn’t mean t-to upset you, I—I—I just…”

            “Well too fuckin’ late, because I’m pretty fuckin’ upset now!” You sigh harshly and pinch the bridge of your nose. You need to stop yelling. He’s just going to stutter more if you keep this up and you’ll never be able to have a proper conversation. You try counting to ten in your head, but you only get up to five before you decide it’s not helping. “Look. Look, Pickles. I’m worried. See this? This is me, worried.”

            He doesn’t look at you. “S-sorry.”

            “Don’t start with that shit, you’re always sayin’ sorry and I know you don’t mean it,” you say. He whimpers. “Droog is _bad news_. Least if Slick decides to stab us all we’ll see it coming, since he’s about as subtle as a… you know, what’s a thing that ain’t subtle?”

            Pickles fidgets. “Ah… a—a neon sign that says ‘person about to stab you’, m-maybe?”

            “Yeah, yeah that. But Droog’s sneaky. He don’t just lie about obvious shit like ‘that body was there when I got here’ and ‘this money ain’t stolen, honest’. He lies about all kindsa shit and really gets up in your head. Mind games, see?”

            “W—well yes, b-but—“

            “And I figure that’s what’s goin’ on here. He’s playin’ his mind games on you!”

            Pickle Inspector shakes his head. “N-n-no. No. I don’t… I don’t think so.”

            “Okay, even if he’s not—and that’s a huge ‘if’!—even if he’s not he’s still a fuckin’ mobster who gets off on violence and sufferin’ and shit. How can you even stand to be near a guy like that?”

            Pickles looks off to the side. “Well ah, I—I know, b-but I…” His voice cracks. Don’t start crying, you think. Please for fuck’s sake don’t start crying. “I just… f-for some reason I…” He sniffles. Oh god, here it comes. Tears start streaming out of those wide eyes of his and he buries his face in his hands. “Oh gosh, oh gosh, y-you’re right, I know you’re right but I—I—“

            “Hey, hold on there,” you say, feeling entirely out of your depth. You really don’t know how to behave once someone starts crying. You reach out a hand to pat him on the back, then stop midway and think better of it.

            “I love him,” he whines. “He’s… he’s dangerous and he’s a criminal a-a-and he deserves to go to jail, I know, I know, but I can’t…”

            He just sits there and sobs. You take off your hat, scratch your head, then put it back on. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” you say. Fuck, you’re apologizing again. And this time you’re not blinded by pure charisma, it’s not some Pulchritude-induced trickery. Pickles is so pathetic sometimes, and you always feel sorry for him because dammit, he just can’t help it. And now he’s managed to fall for the wrong fella and he feels awful and you had to be an ass and rub it in his face.

            Well, okay, you’re a little annoyed because it’s not like you knew he’d react this way. Maybe you’d know better if he hadn’t kept this whole thing a secret! But still, you can’t just have a crying Inspector in your office. What if Sleuth comes in and sees this?

            Oh fuck now Sleuth’s poking his head into your office. Shit.

            You panic and lean over Pickles. “C’mon, don’t cry, you don’t gotta cry about it, fuck…”

            “Jesus, Ace,” Sleuth says, walking over. “The hell did you do?”

            “Not a damn thing!” You snap at him. “I was just tellin’ him how I was worried and shit—“

            “Is this about Droog?” Sleuth asks. “I thought I told you to drop it.”

            “Yeah, well, I only agreed to that ‘cause you were usin’ that fuckin’ charisma shit.” You cross your arms. “Fuckin’ cheatin’ is what it is.”

            “At least it’s better than punching everyone in the snout,” Sleuth says, rolling his eyes. You’re tempted to punch him in the snout. You’re not sure what it would establish but damn if he’s not asking for it. He points to Pickles, who isn’t crying as hard as he was, but he’s still hiccupping and sniffling and wiping his eyes. “Go on, apologize.”

            “I already did!” You say.

            “So apologize better!” Sleuth insists.

            “N-no, it’s okay,” Pickles says as he looks up at the two of you. “Dick’s just trying to help… He—he’s being a good friend.”

            He leans over and hugs you. You really wish he wouldn’t do that. He’s sitting down but he still has to bend over to hug you properly. Stupid height attribute. Still, when he stops hugging, you grin at Sleuth.

            “See that? Good friend, right here,” you say, jabbing a thumb toward yourself.

            “Yeah, well, you’re still an ass,” Sleuth says before putting a hand on Pickle Inspector’s back. “You okay there, Pickle?”

            Pickles nods. “Y-yes. I… I think so. I just… Dick reminded me of some of my own misgivings… I’ll be alright.”

            “You can talk to me whenever you need to, buddy,” Sleuth says. “I know what you’re going through here.”

            “Th-thank you,” Pickles says, smiling slightly.

            “Hey, you can talk to me too!” You say, mostly because you don’t want Sleuth stealing your thunder. “I’m a good friend, remember?”

            Sleuth shrugs. “Okay, sure. If I’m unconscious or dead or otherwise incapacitated, then I guess you could settle for talking to Ace.”

            Pickles chuckles. You glower at Sleuth, but you’re relieved that Pickles is done crying. Sleuth just smiles at you.

            “Anyway, now that we’ve got all that emotional shit settled, I’ve got us a case,” he says, pulling Pickles out of the chair. “There’s a problem that needs sleuthing, so how’s about we all get our keys and head out.”

            “Oh, good,” Pickles says. “I was beginning to worry about the rent. C-compensation?”

            “Adequate,” Sleuth says dismissively.

            The two of them head for the door. You cough. They look over. “I really was just worried about you guys,” you say. It’s not entirely true, of course, you were also upset about a lot of other things. But it’s not entirely false either.

            “You’re still talking about that?”

            “Well yeah, so’s you don’t go bitchin’ to your boyfriend later about what an ass I am,” you say.

            “Not like I have to, everyone in town knows you’re an ass,” Sleuth says. He jerks his head toward the door. “Now grab your gun and get moving, there’s dames to rescue.”

            You grab your hairpin off the desk and shove it in your coat pocket. As the three of you make your way downstairs, joking around and taking potshots at one another, you think to yourself that no, you don’t really wish things were like how they were. You and Pickle Inspector are still a united front, sort of, except now Sleuth was part of your front too and instead of being united against him you were united against the various villains lurking in the dark alleyways of the city. Maybe the two of them were fucking two of those villains and yeah, maybe they lied to you about it. But if you were in their shoes you would’ve lied about it too. That shit’s shameful, but you guess getting involved with the enemy is a special sort of hardboiled and yeah, it happens. You’ll get over it.

            One thing’s for sure though. If those two are sleeping with the enemy, you sure as hell aren’t letting them get any of the dames.


End file.
